Jumper: A Whole Lot Of Specials!
by Penmaster51
Summary: A collection of Jumper holdiday specials & short one-shots done by yours truly first chapter a request! Starring our two Jumpers, Griffin & David! T for slightly strong language & some minor/slight violence. No slash unless said within chapter. Enjoy!
1. Jumpin' Leprechauns!

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything! All is copyrighted to their respectful & rightful owners!**

**WARNINGS: Swearing (I have too much fun with Griffin's potty mouth so there's a lot; 'f' word is not beeped out) & slight violence. Also, anyone deathly afraid of green, this chapter is not for you! Or leprechauns.**

**A/N: A request by friend, Kiwistar, gave me an idea! I'm a true Jumper-lover at heart, it's the final decision that opted me onto , so I decided after her request for a St. Patrick's day fanfic: why not do a whole collection of Jumper holiday fanfics & other silly little oneshots? So here it is!  
A reason why I took down my other two funny Jumper fics (the oneshot will re-appear after I fix it up & I'm sorry to say that the christmas is no longer continuing but there'll be a new one come 2010's christmas)! Lol, enjoy and please review:)**

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Ah, another glorious day in the Lair! A giant pile of junk food, consisting of everything from Cheetos to potato chips of all flavors Griffin O' Connor could possibly find. Soda and Beer sat to his right, waiting for him to just start drinking and drinking.

But all of the Jumper's focus was on the little TV in front of him and the only noise was his fingers clicking away at the controller's buttons. He was going to beat this game before the day ended, that was his goal. He quite enjoyed the gory and violence of these video games… always a good way to vent out anger when there wasn't any Paladins around to beat.

That's when he realized it was too quiet… new score!

"_Hell yes_!" he screeched victoriously, throwing down the controller in a vicious display of victory. He stared at the TV, making sure he was reading the foreign numbers correctly and smirked. Oh hell, did he just beat this game! Time for a new one…

In his plain black outfit, the British man reached over, practically _through_ his pile of junk food, found a stack of games and started to leaf through them. No, he broke that game… that wasn't exactly a game, per say…boring…boring…won that about five times… won _that one_ about twelve times. Griffin scowled, threw the games over his shoulder and picked up the controller again.

May as well try-

"Who's there?" he called out, feeling the jump.

Shit, there goes his happy, fun, other-Jumper-free day! Down the drain because… of…_David Rice_. Anger boiled in his blood and he leapt up, shouting for him to go away. That's when the American little player walked around the corner, grinning from ear to ear (oh yeah, didn't Griffin just kill him when he had the chance?).

He was decked, head to toe, in green. All shades too! A giant, dark green hat, similar to Abraham Lincoln's hat, was plopped on his head with little antenna's; at the ends of those, where glittery shamrocks. He wore a green shirt, saying in Ireland's flag's colors: Cheers! And god… what were those?

The dark green, baggy shorts were the most hideous things Griffin had ever seen. And he had seen some pretty ugly stuff. David was smiling, his cocky eyes gleaming mischievously at Griffin and Griffin just wanted to kick him in his groin so hard it'd make the little boy cry.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned.

"Just celebrating one of the holidays with my best friends!" he said, outstretching his arms and just looked like he was asking for a hug- or to get his ass kicked. The last option suited Griffin far more than the first. He scowled and growled at the boy.

"Go away, yeah? And what holiday are you talking about, dumbass? It's Wednesday!" Griffin threw up his hands in exasperation. The other Jumper laughed.

"Oh, well of course it's hump day, Griffin!"

David cracked up again when the look of utter disgust was placed on Griffin's face.

"Oh! You mean- oh god!" David shook his head quickly, still smiling.

"Come near me and I'll burn you alive," Griffin growled, his threat all too real. The flamethrower was right next to his bed, where he had left it.

"It's just a term used in America, like because Wednesday is the middle day, the hump of the week…" Griffin shook his head, trying to keep the words out of his head and picked up on his game again.

"Anyways, that's not the holiday," David said, _still_ standing there.

_Good, thought you were gay, _Griffin thought. He couldn't stand regular, straight David… put him in a room with a gay David and someone is going to end up dead, that's for sure.

"Can you guess what day it is?" David said excitedly. Griffin paused his game, mentally sighing, and rolled his neck to stare at the practically jumping-up-and-down, full-grown man.

"It's Wednesday… the… seventeenth of March. Now can you please leave, like now, yeah?"

David laughed and shook his head, still smiling. Griffin wanted to smack it off so hard he left a bruise. He scowled at the man and turned back to his game, starting to play it again. Then David realized something very important.

"Griffin!" he screamed, startling the Brit who threw up his controller and started to grumble nasty words that should not be repeated, under his breath.

"What you fucking ass!" he yelled, whipping to face the man and his cheeks flushed angry red.

"You aren't wearing green." David stated, like it was blatantly obvious… which is was.

"Good job, David! What do you want? A damn gold star or something?" Griffin muttered.

"No, no! It's Saint Patrick's Day! You gotta wear green!" David explained. Griffin barely listened, cracking open a beer can and was about to drink it when David swiped it out of his hand. Griffin stared in shock as David just tipped it over, dumping the precious, still good contents onto Griffin's sandy floor while explaining something:

"See, Griffin, if you aren't wearing green on Saint Patrick's Day, everyone has the right to pinch you. That's the tradition. And as my duty as a great Saint Patrick-er," Griffin thought, _I don't think that's a word, dumbshit,_ "I must perform this since I see a nonbeliever."

Curiosity sparked in Griffin, despite everything (_that precious beer, wasted by that idiot!_) and he turned to the other Jumper.

" 'Nonbeliever', yeah? And what in bloody hell are you talking about? What am I-_ow_!" The Jumper leapt out of his chair, staring at David with a mix of shock and anger.

"What the hell was that-"

David, clapping his index finger and thumb together, grinned at Griffin. "Thy must pitch. You're not wearing green."

Griffin, rubbing his upper arm (_damn, that hurt!_), shook his head at the poor man.

"You should go David and go fuck your girlfriend or something before I kick your ass so badly-"

"Oh, Millie's gone to hang out with some girlfriends. She knew better and remembered that she should wear green today." Griffin stared in disbelief at David then shook his head sadly.

"I'm surrounded by idiots…" he muttered, throwing himself back into his chair and picked up his controller. But once again, David intervened and swapped the controller out of Griffin's hands.

"Hey-"

"What's this? Is it PlayStation?" David asked curious, pressing buttons in weird and not actually, helpful ways.

"Stop that! Stop- no it's Xbox! I haven't saved it yet- _give it back David_!"

Griffin reached for it but knew it was useless. The dumbass for a human being had already ruined his new high score and had started a new game… without saving Griffin's new score. His eye slightly twitching, Griffin got up robotically and started to walk towards his chair near his computer. He grabbed his black, nice leather jacket and pulled it on, turning around to face David.

"You know the drill. Don't be here when I come back."

David shrugged, threw the controller over his shoulder and Griffin gawked, jaw and all, wide open. He heard the shattering of the controller and again his eye started to twitch. This time it wasn't stopping.

"Well, I'm coming with you! I must take you to Wal-Mart so that you can get decked out-"

"Davy, no matter how you think I _love_ spending time with you- well, it sucks. Actually, it's like hanging around the dumbest ass in the world! Now, I'm leaving. Don't. Be. Here. When-_hey_!"

Grabbing the shorter-than-him man around the jacket and shirt collar, David started to drag his so-called friend outside. Griffin struggled, grabbing out into the air as if it would help him. Just as he was about to jump away, David took matters into his own hands and they suddenly were in Wal-Mart.

Griffin blamed everything that attacked him from the shelves, since they landed a bit _too_ close to them, on David. It would always and forever be: David's fault. The green leprechauns, teddy bears and whatever else stuffed animal turned green by the spirit of St. Patrick's Day, fell on top of him and trying not to attract anymore attention, Griffin didn't let himself jump away.

It was quite hard to ignore jumping and kicking David's ass when he was snickering with a pair of quite pretty American girls. Griffin leapt up, glaring daggers into David before stomping off. David burst out laughing, whispering something to the girls before leaving and catching up with the angry Brit.

"Oh, Griffin, don't be like this!" he complained. "It ruins the spirit!"

"I'll tell ya what will ruin your chances of ever having-" That's when suddenly, Griffin slipped, not noticing the bright yellow 'Wet Floor' sign and landed with a heavy _thud_ on the ground. The pain shot up his back and he let out a silent groan.

"Ah… Griffin," David said pitifully before reaching down and yanking up Griffin, much to his protest. Griffin swiped off his hands and started to walk the other direction, away from the wet floor. He stuck his hands angrily into his pockets and headed over to the game station…

Only to be stopped by David. Again.

"Go away, Rice! Please!" Griffin pleaded but David only laughed and grabbed his wrist (again to Griffin's protests) and said, "We gotta" paused and then pinched the hell of Griffin's wrist.

"Ass!" Griffin screeched loudly, yanking his hand away from the man and stroked it, glaring at the man.

Parents, of all ages, turned to face at him and sent evil stares and glares his way. Griffin just wanted to flip them off and go home then sleep forever. Maybe then David would leave him alone! But instead Griffin dropped his face into his hands and shook his head.

"Come on, O' Connor, this'll be fun!" David said, embracing him in a very… homosexual hug in the middle of a fairly large crowd. Then a little boy, barely the age of seven, walked up to the two men. Griffin, well being Griffin, was struggling against David's surprisingly stronghold on him.

"Are you two gay?"

_Oh god, did that kid just ask…?_ Griffin thought when suddenly David let go, his chest vibrating because… because David Rice (_that son of a bitch!_) was _laughing_. The man who had just hugged another man… in the middle of Wal-Mart, after a little boy (barely the age of seven!) had asked him if he and his 'friend' were gay… he was _laughing_. This time, Griffin couldn't contain himself. He slapped David so hard he saw spit shoot out of his mouth.

Then he growled and walked back into the aisles upon aisles of green, green, green! He heard footsteps after him and he only shook his head, growling curse words about David when the man spun him around. It was David and he was rubbing his jaw, looking hurt in the eyes. Griffin smacked his hand away, glaring at him angrily.

"What is your problem today, Griffin?"

"You. Always you, David," Griffin snarled as he followed David, whom was picking and tossing around the Saint Patrick decorations and everything off the shelves; switching things and prices while still rubbing his jaw.

"Oh, you're such a party-pooper."

David reached around, pinched Griffin on the hand and went straight back to 'sorting' the shelves; Griffin just glared at him and absentmindedly rubbed his hand. It hurt like hell! Then suddenly he was handed a giant pile of stuff that was all green (green, green, green!) and David smiled at him.

"What is this?" Griffin demanded, dropping the stuff and snorting in disgust.

"Fine, Griffin, I tried to help you in the path to greenness but I guess not… _its war_!" Then he pinched, quite hard, Griffin's cheek and tore off at the speed… of well, David. He's a jumper, not superhuman.

At first, Griffin was in shock. Again. He hated David Rice. He hated Wal-Mart. He hated overly curious boys. Most of all, he hated David… wait hadn't he already thought that? His head hurting, he shook it and stepped over the pile when suddenly, a crazed cashier with short, black hair, pointed a price-scanner at him.

"Hell no, you're not leaving! You're cleaning all this shit up, Mister! I did not wake up at _five in the morning_ to put all this crap out for _you_ to ruin it! Pick it up!" Griffin smirked and shook his head. The cashier growled and suddenly, he heard a small cough.

He spun around and saw little children, all in the range of six to eight years old, staring at him. The overly curious boy pointed at him, green paint on his face in shapes of shamrocks like everyone else and glitter covered those children from head to toe.

"Oh shit," Griffin breathed.

"There's the mean man! _Get him_!" screeched the little boy.

For a split second, Griffin debated ether running away or jumping away. But he didn't have time to decide; the little children had already tackled him to the ground and were beating him senselessly with the stuffed animals he knocked over earlier. Did Griffin ever mention he hated children? Well, now he has. After a moment of being kicked a lot by tiny little feet, the kids backed up and Griffin staggered upward. Everything swam around…

All he heard was the little overly curious kid give a war screech. Then the same kid race up and with a well-aimed kick, Griffin crumpled forward. He groaned loudly, feeling the pain searing from his… well, groin in which had been kicked. Let's just say the kid had a great aim of what was suppose to be hit and did hit his target.

…Poor Griffin.

"You nasty little bugger," he murmured at the smirking kid. Griffin's cheek was pressed against the kill tile of the floor and watched the group of the kids walked away. Then he heard footsteps and slowly let himself collapse to the ground and rolled onto his back.

David, eating an ice cream sandwich, was staring at him. He took another bite silently, arching a curious eyebrow. Griffin staggered up (_oh god, it hurts like hell!_) and pointed an accusing finger at David.

"I'm not blaming it on you… but bloody hell, I'm blaming it on the leprechauns!"

It turns out most of the stuffed animals were, in fact, merry and smiling leprechauns. Griffin glared at them and when he limped away, he felt the eyes following him.

"Griffin, where are you going?"

"I'm jumping the hell out of here!" he snarled back to the man, whipping the words over his shoulders before turning back. He wasn't sure why he was still walking in the damn Wal-Mart after about fifteen minutes of the 'incident with the children'. Maybe he was still in pain… maybe he wanted to lose David… maybe, actually, those were the two reasons.

Then he noticed the two girls from earlier. Pretty, they weren't that bad to the eyes. Griffin shook his head, turning his eyes to the video games. Yes, those were his pretties… walking over, ignoring David's questioning look and the mischievous look before disappearing in the next aisle, Griffin started to look over the games.

That's when the two girls, exchanging a glance between the two, came over.

"Hello," mused one, fluttering her eyelashes. Griffin froze and stared at her for a second, barely taking in how… _close_ the girl was too him and how the other one seemed to be putting herself between him and the games. For a moment, Griffin actually enjoyed it. Then his scowl came on his face.

"Are you okay? It appeared it looks like you took a pretty hard fall there," purred the girl next to him. Griffin just lost the scowl and curled his lip, raising his eyebrows. The girls giggled and smiled at him.

"You're funny! What's your name…?" asked the girl.

Griffin gulped, taking a step back.

"Griffin," he said.

"What a pretty name! I'm Caitlyn," said the blonde next to him.

"I'm Stacy," said her redhead friend. Both wore matching green tank tops and khaki shorts. They each had little necklaces with little shiny, green shamrock beads on them.

"Uh, hi," he said uncomfortably.

"You don't sound American, Griffin. Where are you from?" purred Stacy.

"Britain," Griffin said, arching an eyebrow as she stepped closer.

For once, Griffin was happy for someone coming around the corner and the person yelled something. But it wasn't David. Offended and even more offended when Griffin shrugged, the girls each slapped him across the face and left. Rubbing his jaw, Griffin felt a pinch right on his arse. He spun around, praying it wasn't David and it was a rather nice-looking lady, but it was nether David or pretty lady.

The old woman, who had saved him or chased any chances of sleeping with the girls, stood there with an ugly smile on her face and a mischievous look in her glassy eyes behind her glasses. She was short, barely half of Griffin's height somehow, and held her index finger and thumb together.

"You're not wearing green, Sonny," she said and once again, Griffin saw those damn necklaces with the little shamrocks. They were taunting them and he looked down at the old woman. Then he jumped away.

"Griffin!" David shouted after him, weaving through the crowd of people in one of Europe's very busy streets.

Griffin just growled and walked faster before he jumped again. And again, oh and for the hell of it, once more he jumped again. David kept up with him right along the way and Griffin felt like it was Tokyo, Japan, all over again. He glanced over his shoulder and saw David nowhere.

"About bloody time." He muttered. Then he turned around and smacked right into someone.

"Griffin!" With that introduction, David pinched the Jumper again.

"Gah! Will you stop doing that!" Griffin snarled and David laughed. Then his face fell flat.

'What? Did I hurt your feelings?" Griffin sneered. Then David pointed forwards, in Griffin's case, past him. Just as he was turning to look over his shoulder, a giant smack met his face. Okay, maybe he deserved that one, but ether way it still hurt. Rubbing his now probably bruised cheek, Griffin looked over his shoulder.

Paladins. And they were wearing… green trench coats. David stood on his toes and waved back to them, pinching Griffin's arm again.

"_I will murder you and throw you off the Empire State Building if you keep doing that!_" Griffin screeched like a banshee and everything went hushed.

Glancing around, Griffin growled and walked off again. The noise started up again, David rolled his eyes at the slightly over-dramatic, British Jumper and followed after him. After catching up and not giving Griffin a second to jump away or make a run for it, David latched his arm onto his friend and jumped them away.

Griffin was getting sick of just plain jumping, especially by David. He whipped his arm out of his and glared at him for a second. David smirked and said, "Guess where I took us?"

"To Hell. Then again-" David didn't even let Griffin finish his insult and said: "Nope! To a bar! Now we can celebrate-" This time Griffin didn't let David finish his sentence. He sped past him so fast David's head spun a little bit. Then he shook it for a second and smirked. Griffin should've worn green…

Griffin just gawked at the oversized men hanging out in the bar. They're muscles were just _huge_! They bulged out against the tiny, ripped, dyed green jean vests and other clothing the men wore. For a moment, Griffin was a bit disgusted and wanted to leave but the smell of alcohol was too strong. He took a small seat at the front of the bar and tried to hide as best as he could. Unfortunately that was quite hard for David.

The boy came in smiling and beaming and immediately started talking to the largest fellow in the bar. Griffin felt himself shrink a little bit, just tired and not really in the mood to be noticed. But his black attire also made that hard. Men slowly started to crowd around David and Griffin huddled closer and closer to the wall of the bar. The barman gave him a weird look but wiped it off when Griffin paid for his drink. Then he heard it.

"The one in the black? Yeah, that's Griffin, my friend. Didn't want to wear green today…" Griffin felt his neck hair rise and he narrowed his eyes that immediately focused in on David. The man gave a small, quick wave before disappearing into the crowd.

Griffin was going to strangle him the next time he showed his pretty little face around here.

The big guy, who David had been chatting merrily away with, turned to face Griffin. He slowly approached Griffin and the Brit took a quick swig of his drink before facing them.

"Look, kid, it's Saint Patty's day… wears your spirit?" asked the man. A buddy next to him cracked his knuckles. For a moment, Griffin was intimidated. Then he got over it.

"I forgot." He stated the words and turned back to his beer. Suddenly, he was spun around on the chair and facing the dude and his little posse again.

"You forgot huh?"

"Yeah." Griffin stated bluntly.

"Well, then we'll just have to make you remember." The men behind them sneered and smirked. Griffin hopped his off his stool, realized how bad of a mistake it was since the men towered above them (_god, are they taking damn steroids or something?_) and looked up to them.

"I dare ya," he sneered.

"Ohhh! Fight! Fight! Fight!" someone chanted in the back. All the men and women in the bar started to join the chant, pounding their fists and yelling out insults, compliments and a whole lot of dirty talk. The big dude smirked and said, "Alrighty then."

Somehow, during the brawl where Griffin did have the upper hand (he was actually quite happy he was a Jumper at the time), leprechauns were thrown in. Lots of them. With their creepy, beady dark green eyes staring at Griffin and their mocking bright, red-blonde beards. It set him off the pace. With another hard, swift kick to his groin again, Griffin fell to the floor.

The whole bar erupted into chaos. Only heartbeats after Griffin had fallen (clutching his stomach and curled into a protective ball), someone grabbed him and jumped themselves and him away.

Immediately the person dropped him off on the ground and Griffin groaned. Then there was a pinch on his arm.

"I told ya to wear green today, Griffin. I even took you to Wal-" Suddenly, there was a small gasp from David and he slumped to the floor. Griffin staggered up and shouted, "That's for letting me get kicked there, you stupid jackass!"

David looked up from Griffin and while grimacing in pain, he smiled and said, "Happy Saint Patrick's day Griffin." The man shook his head at the boy, pelted an empty and crushed soda can at his head (and hit him too) and then took his spot on his gaming chair.

Maybe he could get higher than that last score he got…

Happy Saint Patrick's Day everyone!


	2. That Crazy First Day!

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters are the property o****f the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N: **It's a bit late for April first...but yeah, busy weekend! An Easter one will be posted in a day or so. It's really, really random so just... go with itXD Leave a review if you can!

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Griffin stared at the wall above. The wall stared back down at him… he wasn't sure what happened exactly, why he was passed out on the Lair's floor and staring up at the ceiling, but he was kind of afraid why. But then all the pubs, bars and taverns he hit, trickled back to his head and the hangover induced headache pounded harder and louder.

He groaned and rolled to his side, curling into a tight, little ball. He knew today would be one of those days; the one where to just move hurt and he buried his face in the conveniently placed blanket underneath his head. Wait a minute…

Griffin froze, not moving a muscle, and listened. He was in his bedroom, on the floor near his bed and obviously, he meant to fall onto the bed before he completely passed out but he must have missed. He didn't have time to grab a blanket or whatever the hell was under his head!

"David," he muttered and scrambled up, only to clutch his stomach and swallow down the bile that rose in his throat. He swayed for a moment, gripping the loose sheets he had on his bed before he took a hesitant step forward. Feeling slightly more confident he wasn't going to get sick (_holy shit, how many drinks did I have?!_ _I normally hold myself fairly good…_), Griffin exited the room to find.

"_David_!" The word hissed out like when water was thrown onto a small heat surface. David turned around, outfitted in a far subtler look than last time he was here (_I'm never wearing green in my life- ever_), and gave a wide grin. He placed the new controller on the floor and hopped up, trying to compose himself.

"Griffin? Look's who's awake! I figured-"

"I don't care! Get out!"

Last time, David broke Griffin's precious controller… this one was _wireless_ and it did come out of Griffin's (stolen) pocket money so he'll murder David without batting an eyelash (not that he would even wait to see if David did anything; he'd kill him just for fun!). All in all, Griffin didn't want the incident happening _again_.

"I wouldn't get angry if I were you… who knows what a non-drunk person may do to a hangover guy." David smirked.

Well, that's a first for David threatening. A very first. He's never been like this before… what's going on? _Aw, shit, something is going on! God, what is he going to do today?_ Griffin thought slowly, trying to avoid adding more pain to his headache.

"Is that a threat?"

"Yeah."

Griffin sighed, his eyes darting around until they settled back on the man in the middle of his lair. Griffin just wanted to kick him out, literally, so he could have a hangover in peace and try to sleep it off so he could get back on track to fighting Paladins tomorrow or maybe the day after tomorrow…

"Griffin? _Griffin_!" David said, frowning at him.

"What?" Griffin said, realizing he had spaced out.

David laughed and Griffin scowled, glaring at him.

"Man, that guy must have hit you really hard!" David chuckled again, his eyes darting to Griffin's face. What? A bar fight? Griffin frowned, trying to see if he remembered that… nope. _Shit!_

"Hit me? What happened last night!" he demanded.

"Oh nothing!" David said in a girly voice and laughed.

"_What happened last night, David Rice_!" Griffin growled, taking three threatening, swaying steps toward him and his index finger blurred in front of him. David's eyes bulged a bit and then he started to chew his lip.

"Err… do you have a mirror? Anywhere?" David was asking the most random questions.

"What?" Griffin squeaked, still in a bit of shock that he was hit. And the alcohol was still in system too and he glanced around, his eyes landing on the lights… this lights were so blue! Wonderful, bright, light blue lights! Griffin giggled at the stupid, immature thought and bowed his head, trying to smother his laughter.

David popped directly back to the room, giving Griffin a wary and what-is-he-doing look.

"Griffin…"

"Pfftt…what?" Griffin said, puckered his lips trying to control himself.

"Are you okay?" David asked, taking a few steps away from the man. Quite actually, his cheeks were getting this pink color from trying to keep his laughter under control.

"Uh…" Griffin frowned, tilted his head and then shook it. "No! Ah! What did you put in my drinks?!" Obviously he was just spacing out once in a while…

"What? Me! I'm insulted Griffin! Why would I do that-"

Griffin got right in his face, alcohol strong on his breath and David wrinkled his nose at the stench.

"I don't know! You _did_ leave me in the middle of the fucking desert, in a fucking _electrical tower_ and surrounded by _men with guns_! Oh yes, that isn't against your morals but poisoning someone's drink- nope!"

"Griffin-"

"Well, I'm going to find out what you did!"

"Griffin-"

The slightly crazed, still partly drunk man raced out of the cave at the speed… of a slightly crazed and still partly drunk man could possibly go. He jumped away about a yard away from the Lair's entrance.

"What the hell just happened?" David asked, looking around.

Well, the narrator started, it's his-

"Aw, where'd he go?" David continued, ignoring the voice and walked outside, spotting the jumpscar.

Why doesn't anyone listen to me? Why not? I'm a good person, haven't broken the laws at all-

David leapt through the jumpscar, leading to where he didn't know and followed after the man. The voice was left sobbing it's heart out.

"Gotta find it, gotta find it," Griffin muttered and glanced around, running a shaking hand through his hair. Shaking? Whatever, he didn't care. God, he probably was going to die in any minute! How wrong is that? Griffin O' Connor- dying! Ha!

Griffin chuckled darkly and shook his head, starting to jog when he felt the Rice kid jump over here. _Damn kid should stalk someone else!_ He thought bitterly. Kid was so annoying… Griffin stopped, glanced over his shoulder and slipped into an alley. Hopefully that'll get David off his tail! Griffin saw the lights; music blared from inside and he could just smell the drinks being served. This had to be it… where did he jump again? Griffin shook his head and was about to step in when David appeared behind him and threw him back after he grasped the Brit's shoulder. Griffin's breath whooshed out as he landed with a thud against the ground.

Why didn't he jump? Oh right, he's still kind of… out of it.

"What the bloody fucking hell was that for?!" he screeched. Obviously, his language doesn't improve; it's actually gotten worse!

David raised his eyebrows in slight surprise but not shock; to some point, he was surprised at all. Griffin without swearing was like… David lost his train of thought and spoke: "Wow, Griffin… you're the mad drunk. Most normal people are kind of-"

Griffin didn't really like the words coming out of David's mouth, so he decided to cut him off. "Ah! Get out of the way or I'll… I'll…" Griffin growled at the end, literally growled and jabbed a finger in David's direction.

David sighed and shook his head. "And you'll do what?"

"I'll… I'll drown you!"

"Griffin, I could jump away." Well, no duh, David! But unfortunately, Griffin wasn't at his best

"Fuck you! Now can you _get out of the way_?" he said with an angry huff. David chuckled.

"Can I?"

"Fine, be a dumbshit, now move the hell out of the way!"

"Griffin, you could have-"

"I know, I know! I could have jumped, blah, blah, blah!" Griffin threw up his hands and disappeared with a pop and a giant gust of wind. David shielded his eyes from the sand and dirt that blew into the wind, smashing into whatever got in their way.

"Damn idiot!"

Ha-ha, David, I'm back! The voice was back! I'm so totally going to find-

"May as well follow him, so he doesn't get into too much trouble." David muttered half-heartedly. He actually didn't want to be even associated with Griffin at the moment; actually… who wanted to be? This was almost as bad when he was explaining the whole "They'll get your family, friends, blah, blah, blah" and then asked him if he wanted tableware! Who does that?!

Back to the story, David leapt through the damn jumpscar, irritated to the bone when he heard a squeal. And it was Griffin. What happen? Did he run into a wall? David sighed and jogged to the other side of the corner, seeing Griffin get dragged into a tattoo parlor. Oh god… it was the big guy from St. Patrick's Day! David debated leaving him but sighed heavily again and went through the door.

Griffin lay strap to a chair, swearing, threatening, whatever violent word or words he could think of, were said directed at the man in front of him. The man was the human equivalent of the Hulk! Except he had pretty little unicorns decorating his ripped jean jacket, colorful flowers and other classic girl junk on his clothing. David knew it was a joke, but… well, Griffin didn't.

David was in on a lot of things that Griffin wasn't.

"What the hell! Let me go! Damnit! Let me go! Why in hell are you wearing that shit? You look like a fucking-" A piece of Ducktape, a wonderful and amazing invention, was slapped and patted over Griffin's mouth. His eyes widen when he saw the tattoo gun-thing roar to life, the twirling noise making him start to sweat.

So what did manly, super tough and anti-social Griffin do? The only thing a slightly crazed, still part drunk man could do: he screamed. Loudly. Even through the tape, which muffled the actual words, it was loud. The tattoo gun was dropped and with that threat gone, just to be safe of course, Griffin struggled in his seat. The chair- it wouldn't let him go!

David, figuring the poor man was probably at his wit's end, un-strapped him and Griffin left like that. Just disappeared. David smiled, laughed and shook his head. Then he turned to the tattoo man.

"I told you it'd work out."

The man laughed a deep rumble and agreed. "Yup, you proved me wrong. Do you think he'll be alright?"

"Aw, he's fine Frank. Thanks!" David handed the actually quite nice man a couple of ten-dollar bills and then followed after his 'friend'. Where did this jumpscar lead? The Lair lay out in front of David, the sand soft and hot as always. The sun beat down on him and already caused sweat started to roll down his neck. He noticed a black slump at the beginning of the lair, sprawled on their stomach.

Next to Griffin was a puddle of his stomach contents. Oh, that's always nice; puke, right at your front door! David laughed though, knowing that last night's pubs, taverns and bars had worked out in his favor. He in fact, paid for the second half of Griffin's drinks. They had a bet last night; David bet that Griffin wouldn't remember what happened last night tomorrow and Griffin bet that he would. It was obvious who won the bet.

David kicked more dirt over the mess (it wasn't his place after all) and dragged the man into the Lair. David placed Griffin right in his bedroom again, threw a couple of blankets on top of him and smashed a pillow into his face. Griffin remained still.

"Huh," David mumbled and then walked back out to the little living room of the Lair. He plopped himself into Griffin's chair, cracked open a soda and decided to mess with Griffin's games.

"AHH! Get the fuck away from me!" Griffin screamed, leaping up and glanced around. He wasn't in a tattoo parlor… his head fell into his hands as his headache pounded in his head. He had one in his dream too. Irony was at work. _Yeah, it was just a dream. A greatly screwed up dream but a dream nonetheless. I wonder…_ Griffin got up slowly and wandered into the living room, peeking around one of the towers.

No noise. No rustling or shifting of someone. No David Rice! Griffin let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and walked out. Then of course, David had to surprise him.

"Hi Griffin!"

The man leapt back from David, shielding his face from any attacks. When he realized who it actually was, he lowered his defenses and scowled at him. _Stupid moron._ Griffin narrowed his eyes angrily and pointed to the door. David just laughed and yawned.

"How'd you sleep?" David asked.

"You're creepy." Griffin muttered, throwing himself into the chair.

"No, not creepy. Curious."

Griffin rolled his eyes, his lips pressed into a thin and firm straight line; he debated in his head whether or not to tell David his dream. What the hell! A dream is a dream- it won't hurt anyone if he told him. Griffin took a deep breath and retold his dream, keeping in mind to edit a few parts here and there (_I don't scream! I give war cries, damn it…_)

David just started to laugh his ass off when Griffin finished talking. He laughed and laughed; tears formed in his eyes, threatening to roll over. Griffin stared at the man, wondering what he had for breakfast… or lunch or whatever meal was closest to whatever time it was.

David wiped away the tears and said between gasps of air, "Griffin…that… wasn't… a dream!" He laughed some more.

"You're lying."

"Nope. Happy April Fool's Griffin."

"How does that have any relevance- wait…" Griffin stopped talking, thinking hard in his drunken mind… it flooded back to him. The bet. The date. What was so special on the date, April first. He slowly turned to David, his blue eyes smothering like blue flame.

"I'll give you a ten second start."

"I'll just leave…" David snickered, backing out. Griffin held up his index finger.

"One," two fingers, "two," three fingers, "three…" David laughed and disappeared. Griffin slouched closer into his comfortable chair, muttering curses in every language he knew. But Griffin O' Connor wasn't going down… what's the next holiday?

"Wait till then, David Rice… wait till then and you'll be sorry for the shit you gave me… oh, you'll be sorry." Griffin grinned, picked up his controller and started to play.

Do you know how hard it was to find you too?! God, I was all the way in Russia when I realized you two weren't there!

Griffin glanced around, the voice bouncing off the walls. "Who's there?"

Me, you dumb ass! The voice, the one that was bothering David during your little 'dream'-

Griffin shook his head, turned up the volume warily and glanced around again before he settled into the game. Grumbling came from the air above him and Griffin wondered: _have I gone schizophrenic?_ When the question went unanswered, Griffin decided he wasn't and went to his game.

I'll be back! Whispered the voice…

"Damn fourth wall; it keeps breaking." Griffin muttered and shut off the video game.


End file.
